


A Happy Birthday?

by theoofoof



Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-12 23:23:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1204369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoofoof/pseuds/theoofoof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Ruth's birthday but so far it hasn't been a great day. Could a surprise from Harry change that? Two-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so it's half term and I sat down this morning determined to write some H/R and this is what came of it. It was written in less than 6 hours, so I hope it's okay. I'd say it's set after 4x09 ignoring the events of 4x10, as I have kept Ruth's step-brother alive.
> 
> Thanks to HR4 for the help!

Ruth sat at her station staring blankly at her computer screen.  It was her birthday today and not one of her colleagues had said a word. In fact no-one had. Oh, she knew her mother would call later. She never forgot. Harry had remembered once and bought her a Red Shoes CD and a book about cats. She had wondered if there had been a deeper meaning to his gift, but nothing had come of it though, save for the briefest touch of their hands during a clandestine meeting on the top deck of a late night bus. So today seemed destined to pass by in obscurity; no notable or outstanding events. The same as every year since she had turned eighteen really.

She didn’t even have any plans for tonight, though in hindsight that was probably a good job since it was already nearing seven. She was going to her mother's tomorrow. Her stepbrother, Peter would be there, an extraordinary event in and of itself. Her mother was cooking dinner and throwing a little birthday celebration with the family. Her mother had asked if she would be bringing anyone, but she had replied with the same answer she used every time her mother asked such a question. No, there was no man in her life, not in that way at least. She always added to herself (for she would never speak of such things with her mother) that the one man she did want to be in her life that way, well that was a whole lot of complicated.

She sighed deeply and looked over towards the office of the man in question. He had been late this morning, called to a middle of the night meeting at the Home Office. And then he had disappeared without a word in the middle of the afternoon. Unsurprisingly, he looked dog-tired, but she knew he had no plans to go home and rest. He was working through a pile of reports that had backed up during the last crisis. His sleeves were rolled up, jacket hanging on the back of his chair and his reading glasses were perched on his nose.  They were a new addition; he’d grumbled ever so slightly about having them; made some comment about losing one’s faculties and said it was the beginning of the end. She loved those glasses though. She thought they made him look intelligent, relaxed, and sexy.

Yes, Harry was sexy, with or without the glasses. She'd known that from day one. It had taken about a year and a half for her to fall in love with him and another year before she admitted it to herself. The last few months had been spent deciding whether or not she should do anything about it. No other man was going to take his place in her heart. She knew that now. Harry was under her skin and he was there to stay.

She sometimes suspected he had feelings for her, but she couldn’t be sure. They had grown closer and he had been more affectionate, more touchy lately. He would often place his hand on the small of her back as they walked together, guiding her and her would lean in closer when talking to her. It was as if her were testing her boundaries. She had found herself unable to muster any objections to his behaviour. She admitted that she wanted his affection, his attention. She wanted him to touch her. Even her sexual fantasies were rearing their ugly head in the middle of the day sometimes now. No longer were they kept confined to the bedroom and the small hours of the night. God, she wished she had the courage to tell him what she wanted, how she felt, but she hadn't found it yet. A second heavy sigh was punctuated by his voice.

“Is everything alright, Ruth?”

She started. She’d been so engrossed in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed him make his way out of his office and approach her desk.

“Y-yes Harry. Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You’ve been staring into space for the last few minutes and that’s not like you.”

“I’m sorry; I suppose I’m just tired,” she lied.

“Why don’t you go home? This report can wait until after the weekend. Go on; get off home. It is your birthday after all.”

“Y-you remembered?

“You thought I’d forgotten?”

She blushed. “I thought you may have done; you didn’t say anything.”

“No, but I am doing now. Happy Birthday. Do you have any plans?”

“I’m driving down to my mother’s tomorrow for the weekend. She’s cooking tomorrow night; a sort of family party,” she told him.

“Sounds nice.”

“I’m sure it will be; it’s been a while since we’ve all been together,” Ruth said, stifling a yawn. “Oh, sorry!”

Harry chuckled. “It’s quite alright. Go on. Go home and have a nice evening.”

With that he went back to his office and carried on signing off on reports. No card, no present, no hug. Okay well, the last one might have been asking for a bit too much but after last year, Ruth couldn’t help but be disappointed that he hadn’t chosen to mark her birthday in a more concrete way. Saddened, she shut down her computer and got ready to leave.

* * *

From his office, Harry watched her gather her coat and bag, bid goodnight to the rest of the team and exit through the pods. He began to feel nervous about what would happen when she got home and discovered the gift he’d gotten her. He wondered if it was too much and how she would react to it. He'd nipped out this afternoon and been to her apartment to leave his gift. He'd spent weeks planning it, deciding what to get and how to give it to her. Part of it was what the gift was, but the important thing was what the gift meant and how she would take it. She certainly wouldn't expect what he had left for her.

He was taking a big chance, he knew. If this went wrong he could find himself with a sexual harassment suit. He'd agonised over it, but he couldn’t keep his feelings to himself any longer.  Even if she didn't return them, it was getting too tense avoiding the subject. They had grown closer recently, since the deaths of Danny and Fiona. They had often found themselves the last two people on the Grid and where, in the past they would have continued to work on alone, they now gravitated toward each other. It had started one night, not long after Fiona’s death. She had appeared at his door with two cups of coffee and a stack of files under her arm. Without uttering a word, she had placed a cup of coffee on either side of his desk, put her files down and pulled up a chair. He had raised an eyebrow, but she had said nothing. When she had finished her work, she’d gathered the now empty cups and left just as quietly as she had arrived. He’d followed her to the kitchen where she was rinsing the cups. He’d helped to dry.

“You looked like you needed the company,” she had explained with a sad smile. “I know I did.”

From then on, they regularly found themselves ensconced in Harry’s office once the grid was empty. Sometimes they shared tea, sometimes whiskey, sometimes they worked, sometimes they didn’t; sometimes they talked, sometimes they didn’t. How they spent their time together didn’t matter much to Harry, as long as they were together. This shift in their relationship had given him the impetus to take this next step. It was definitely time. He was struggling to keep a lid on his feelings for her.  She had to be told before he lost all control of himself ended up pushing her down on his desk, and taking her there and then, as he had done in many of his fantasies. He was more than ready to accept the consequences of his confession, whatever they may be, because he couldn't live like this anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

Ruth opened her door, picked up a few cards and letters off the door mat and hung her coat on the stand. When she turned to drop her keys on the dresser, she stopped short. There was a small white envelope in plain sight on the table lying next to a single white rose in a crystal bud vase. Her name was on the card. 'Ruth'.

She was panicked for a moment. Who had been in her house? But as she looked closer at the envelope she realised she recognised that writing. It looked very much like… Harry’s. Had he done this for her? Was this where he’d snuck out to in the afternoon?

She picked up the bud vase and sniffed the rose, taking in the scent. She put it down and opened up the card. Harry’s distinctive scrawl was inside;

_Happy Birthday to the best analyst_   
_I have ever had._

_White is for trust._   
_Go to the coffee table next._   
_H_

Ruth was confused for a moment. Trust wasn’t the generally accepted meaning for white roses, that was innocence and purity but Harry was hoping she would have some further knowledge. She racked her brain for a few moments; she knew it could also mean secrecy, something rather apt for their jobs, but that wasn’t what Harry was saying either. Then she remembered something she’d read not three months earlier. White roses had held great significance during the War of the Roses; it was said that the white rose signified death to those who betrayed their word, tying the meaning of the white rose to loyalty and trust as well.

She smiled despite herself and made her way into the living room. There on the coffee table was another rose in a vase, yellow this time, and another card. She opened it.

_Hoping all your dreams come true._

_Yellow is for friendship._   
_Kitchen next_   
_H_

She was enjoying this now. She loved little games like this. Last year, Harry had…. Even though this wasn’t as challenging as that, she found herself excited, wondering what this was all leading to. It was quite sweet that he’d gone to this much trouble for her birthday. Although sweet wasn’t a word many people would use to describe Harry Pearce, Section Head. But Ruth was in a unique position; she had often had the privilege of seeing the man underneath his tough persona.

The kitchen table held a pink rose and another card which read;

_To let you know that I appreciate_   
_the times you have been there for me._   
_I know I don’t always accept your offers_   
_of support or thank you for them I want_   
_you to know that I do appreciate them._

_Pink is for appreciation and affection._   
_Go upstairs._   
_H x_

Upstairs? He had never been upstairs in her house before. On the few occasions he had reason to call on her, he’d remained in the living room or kitchen. She didn’t think he had ever even stayed long enough to need to use the bathroom. She felt her throat getting tight and anticipation rising within her as she climbed the stairs. She hurried into the bedroom. There on the chest at the foot of her bed was an enormous crystal vase containing two dozen blood red roses.

Ruth gasped; they must have cost a fortune. Next to the vase was a rectangular package about the size of a book, neatly wrapped in gold foil. A small tag on top said: 'Open Me'.

She picked up the present and sat down on the bed. Her hands were shaking as she slowly removed the paper to reveal a black velvet box. Her mouth went dry. This certainly wasn’t a CD or a book about cats. Several long minutes passed before she could bring herself to open the box. When she finally did, another gasp escaped her and her hand came up to her mouth. She stared, her breath hitching.

In the centre of the box was an ornate, white gold heart pendant; the most beautiful Ruth had ever scene. The heart was cut out in the middle, in fanciful swirls, that reminded her of the scrolled iron gates of the 19th century which lead to lavish estates and secret gardens. At the bottom of the heart, a small diamond was sparkling from where it was cast into the gold.

The lid of the box held a note on heavy bond paper. She unfolded it, hands still trembling.

_Ruth,_

_This is for the most extraordinary woman I have ever met. She_   
_is clever, compassionate, gentle and loving. This is to tell her_   
_something that I should have told her years ago…_

_I’m in love with you Ruth. You have stolen my heart completely._

_Red is for love and passion._

_Harry x_

Ruth sat stunned her brain struggling to process what was happening. Harry was in love with her! After basking in this revelation for a few moments, she stood and made her way to her dresser. She removed the chain she had worn for work that morning and placed the new one around her neck. She reached behind to fasten it, but the clasp was fiddly and her hands were still trembling slightly, making it difficult.

“May I help?” a voice asked, startling Ruth and almost making her drop the necklace.

Her head whipped round and her eyes fell on him, standing in the doorway to her bedroom, having snuck into her house once more. “Harry!”

Wordlessly, he approached her and took the chain from her quivering hands. She relinquished it to him and held her hair out of the way as he fastened it. “Beautiful,” he whispered, bringing her hands to rest on her shoulders.

“It’s gorgeous,” Ruth agreed as she reached up to finger the pendant, not realising he was referring to her as much as the jewellery. She met his eyes in her mirror. “It must have cost a fortune.”

“I wanted to get you something nice,” he said.

“Some people would regard this as considerably more than ‘nice’.

“Well, I also wanted to get my point across and I didn’t think a CD or a book screamed romance.”

“Oh, I don’t know Harry. I mean yes, this is an obvious expression of love, but I would have been just as happy with your confession alone.”

“R-really?” Harry’s mouth had gone dry and he was struggling to speak. He had hoped Ruth would feel the same but he hadn’t been certain. One could never be certain about matters of the heart.

Ruth nodded. “It would have been the best present I’ve ever gotten.”

“Okay then.” He paused, turning her to face him. “I am in love with you Ruth; I have been for a long time.” He held his breath, waiting for her response. Saying it to her face hadn’t been as difficult as he’d imagined and now he’d done it, he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to stop himself. He wanted to tell her every day.

She raised her hand to his cheek. “I love you too, Harry.”

His arms slid around her waist and he tugged her closer to him, bringing his lips down on hers gently. He swallowed her little gasp of surprise and took advantage of her open mouth. His tongue swept inside, slow and lazy, tasting her, savouring the jolts of sensation passing between them. Her lips were so full and soft. She shivered and tentatively rolled her tongue around his and he groaned heavily into her mouth and deepened the kiss. They teased each other with their lips and their tongues and soon it became impossible to know who was sighing and who was gasping.

Ruth’s head was spinning. Harry was kissing her! He was very good, frighteningly good! His kiss was soft but insistent and her ears were buzzing with the rush of blood in her head. Kissing him made her feel ... complete. It felt so right. Nothing had ever felt this right.

Harry could feel himself reacting to the kiss and he knew that they needed to stop and talk about this. So, reluctantly, he broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. They both smiled as they caught their breath.

“We’ve both made some pretty big declarations tonight, Ruth so I understand if you need some time…”

She shook her head. “I don’t need time, Harry. I want this. I want you. I want us.”

He kissed her again. “Does this mean you’ll let me buy you dinner on your birthday?”

“I’ll let you buy me dinner any day, Harry. But can we stay in and get a take away? I’ve still got to pack for tomorrow and I’ll have an early start in the morning.”

“Whatever you want; it’s your birthday after all. How about this, I’ll go and get us some food and a bottle of wine, while you pack. Hmm?”

“Sounds good. You’ll be able to let yourself in when you get back won’t you? I mean, you’ve had a lot of practise with my front door today,” she teased.

“And aren’t you glad I did?”

“Definitely,” she replied with a smile. Today had turned out be a very happy, very memorable birthday after all.


	3. Epilogue: The Next Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For NatesDate, who was cheeky enough to ask for more! I'm not sure it's exactly what you envisioned but it's what my muse and I came up with. Hope you enjoy it anyway!

Ruth was sat on her mother’s couch surrounded by her immediate family, opening her gifts. A cashmere jumper and some books from her mother and stepfather, David, a gift voucher from Peter and his girlfriend and some scented candles from her aunt.

After Ruth thanked everyone, her mother asked, “What else did you get?”

“Not much,” she replied vaguely, “Claire sent a framed photo of Benny,” she smiled as she thought of the gift from her old friend and Godson, which had arrived that morning. “That’s about it; work has been extremely busy over the past few weeks so people just haven’t had time.”

“Really?” asked Peter who was always been far too observant and could never pass up and opportunity to tease Ruth. “Because that’s a very nice necklace you’re wearing!”

Her mother’s attention was drawn to the pendant as Ruth glared at her step-brother. “Oh my! That’s beautiful!” gushed her mother.

“It’s certainly very nice,” agreed David.

“Mmm, too nice to be a gift from just a friend,” Peter commented teasingly, despite an even stronger glare from Ruth.

“Shut up Peter!” Ruth hissed.

“Who _is_ it from dear?” her mother asked excitedly. “Have you met someone?”

Ruth sighed, knowing her mother wouldn’t let this drop now; she was like a dog with a bone when she had suspicions. “Fine! Yes, I’m seeing someone.”

“So why don’t we know about him? I did say you could bring someone this weekend.”

“Mother, when we spoke about this Harry and I were just friends.”

“Clearly not anymore.”

“Peter, I swear if you don’t stop with the comments I am going to throw this cushion at you!” Peter looked contrite so she continued to explain the situation to her mother and stepfather. “It’s all very new. We’ve been growing closer for a while and last night we had dinner, her gave me this and we’ve decided to give our relationship a chance to… develop.”

Despite her annoyance at Peter for his interfering, Ruth couldn’t help but smile as she talked about Harry. She was truly happy for the first time in years and it was all down to Harry. If he hadn’t plucked up the courage to make the first move, they could still have been dancing around their feelings for one another for years. If they lived that long, which wasn’t a certainty in their line of work. Nothing was certain when you worked for Military Intelligence.

Ruth’s happiness did not go unnoticed by her mother. “Well I think that’s wonderful. You should bring him down to meet us sometime,” she told Ruth. Ruth was about to protest, that they were both very busy and it was much too soon to be making familial introductions but she was prevented from doing so by the oven timer. “Oh, dinner’s ready. David, can you give me a hand please?”

David followed his wife dutifully to the kitchen, leaving Ruth and Peter alone. “Are you happy now? See what you’ve done? She’ll be talking about buying hats next!”

“Sorry sis, but it’s nice for her to have someone else’s love-life to focus on. If your mother had dropped one more hint about me marrying Angela I was going to scream.”

Ruth raises an eyebrow. “So you threw me to the wolves? Yeah, thanks for that.”

“I’ve said I’m sorry,” he pointed out.

“Hmmm.”

“You look happy though.”

“I am,” Ruth replied. No matter how annoying Peter could be, he was also the one person in her family she could talk to without fear of being judged. “It’s… I don’t know… I’ve wanted this for a long time. I love him, Peter. He’s a kind and generous man, who definitely knows how to romance a girl.”

“Clearly” Peter’s voice had taken on that teasing tone again and he was looking closely at her neck, as if he was examining it.

“Y’know, not for the first time in my life Peter, I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

Peter stood and moved towards the door. “Well, if that hickey on your neck is anything to by I’d say he’s romanced you good and proper!”

Ruth gasped in mortification. Her hand flew to her neck and Peter dived out of the room laughing, whilst skilfully avoiding the cushion that flew through the air towards him!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that really is the end now. Thanks for reading.


End file.
